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adybird Ladybird

Her secret was listening to flowers.

She often used to hear fields full of growth,

to hear waves of noise rolling through her.

She whispered to all that would listen,

"I hear shifting things existing within me:

budding movements touching roots and chords."

The heedless couldn't hear such vibrations,

such embryonic ways fresh sprung from the earth,

She carried daughters and their daughters within,

and expressed herself in kind: offering

her lyrics of delights for protection,

to fend off predators stalking their prey.

When she reached home, she knew the swooping birds

were perfectly shaped, being spherical,

and so were divinely built for unity.

Which made the plaintive call of the night owl

and its transformation into silent flight,

ever more eerily significant.

She knew the owl had been the baker's daughter,

and such wicked behaviour was always

going to be punished by autumn's progeny.

But her secret was listening to flowers.

And so, she continued to tell her daughters

and their daughters to listen - for murmurs.